


Walk a Path With Me

by R_Strailo (Strailo)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attacks, Death, Drabble Collection, Horror, Other, Short Story, Witchcraft, dead bodies, forceful forgetfulness, warnings at the start of each drabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 16,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strailo/pseuds/R_Strailo
Summary: Just a little path.Filled with thoughts and monsters both human and paranormal.See what goes through the mind of a horror writer and lover.A series of stories (one for each day of Halloween Month).
Comments: 8
Kudos: 1





	1. Day 1: Prompt 4

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: October 1, 2020  
> Prompt 4: Their friends were disappearing.
> 
> And no one was noticing. 
> 
> Warnings:  
> People Disappearing  
> Forceful forgetfulness  
> Hints at something more

Standing at their locker, biting at their lips, they looked around the halls before looking at the pictures that hung on the inside of their locker. _Someone else is gone,_ they thought, biting deeper into their bottom lip before letting go with a wince. _Kylie this time. Last time was Kevin_.

They looked over to the one friend they shared space with and eyed her locker with her own pictures. They didn’t look empty, as if the people within the picture had moved closer together and towards the camera that had taken it. They knew though that if they asked about Kylie, Aliana would give them a bewildered look and say that she had never known someone named Kylie.

They had done it with Kevin.

And with Markus.

And with Lee. The girl that Aliana had dated since their freshman year.

Sighing, they closed their locker and wondered if they had enough time to go by Kylie’s locker to see if it was like the others. Deciding that yes, they did have time since her locker was on the way, they smiled at their friend, said goodbye, and walked away, smile dropping on their lips.

Stuffing their phone into their hoody pocket, they saw that most of their classmates had already headed for their own classes, leaving the hallway mostly bare. Only a girl in a pink pastel sundress was standing in the hall, shuffling through her books to find the right one. She was new and had started the year about three days after them.

They knew that something was off about her but could never quite figure out why the bright happy girl was so off-putting. She was amazingly kind after all…

Shaking their head, they stepped in front of Kylies locker and pressed the code on the keypad. They sighed when the lock clicked with a flash of green and they pulled it open. Inside was just as they thought it would be, as it had been with Markus’, Kevin’s and Lee’s locker when they had checked.

Empty except for a single picture. The copy of the picture that they all had.

Instead of the people disappearing from it though, the copies always had the person becoming ghostly with a horrified expression on their face. It was as if…that person had been caught in the middle of something horrific happening to them. They sometimes thought that they could hear their friends screaming from the pictures even as they picked up the new picture and stared at it.

And there was Kylie, her rich black skin paler by several dozen shades, almost losing all color as she looked pissed and scared from the picture. Rubbing a finger over the picture, they tucked the picture into their hoody pocket and promised to add the picture to the other three.

Closing the locker, they jumped in surprise when they saw that the girl in pink was behind the locker door, smiling brightly at them.

“Hi there!” she chirped. Shifting on their feet, they nodded.

“Hello,” they said, eyes watching her carefully before shifting away from her. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to class.”

“Oh, of course,” the girl said, smiling brightly as she watched them leave, tilting her head as her smile fell away leaving her blank faced.

The next week, Aliana frowned as she stared at her picture of her standing before a canyon, smiling and holding up a peace sign. She felt as if there was something was missing.

Looking to the locker that had sat empty ever since the first year of the year, she frowned at the urge to put in a code into the keypad. Shrugging, she did so, finding herself surprised when it opened easily. Inside a picture sat. She stood in the middle of four others, two on each side, her pose the exact same as the one of the picture that hung in her locker.

But unlike that picture, the four that surrounded her looked scared and made her wonder just why it felt…

As if she knew them.

Her friend called out, the other girl wearing a pink sweater with black jeans, smiling brightly. Pushing the thought aside, she put the picture back into the locker and closed the door, smiling at her friend.

No one would know that her friend had disappeared because they didn’t remember them.


	2. Day 2 - Prompt: Weird Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 2: October 2, 2020  
> Prompt 12: She found a door in the basement that wans’t there before.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Twist Ending  
> Blood (talked about)  
> Physical Violence (talked about)

Stopping at the bottom of the basement stairs, Loni blinked at the fact that there was something that hadn’t been there before. Or at least not that she had seen every time that she had gone into the basement to do her laundry. Then again, there was usually specialized plaster on that wall to protect it from any flooding that could happen.

But now there was a door. It was a simple door without a knob to keep it closed. A hook and latch system kept it closed but looked about ready to rust off all together. Pursing her lips, she lifted her laundry basket off, squashing the bad feeling that she had, and walked over to the washer and dryer.

She shifted the wet things into the dryer and set it to dry before dumping her stuff into the washer. Her eyes kept drifting over to the door even as she loaded the laundry detergent, fabric softener, and bleach into the right spots, and setting the machine to start in thirty minutes.

Rolling her shoulders and deciding to studiously ignore the feeling of being watched, she closed the washer and headed up the stairs, closing the door behind her. Loni sighed, resting back against the doorway before shaking her head and heading for the kitchen. She had to admit that while the house was nice, it freaked her out to be left alone in the house. Grabbing a soda, she bounded up the stairs and turned her music on, turning to a favorite techno mix playlist.

As the music thumped, she danced around her room, cleaning and putting up the last load of clothes that she had done, tossing more into her basket to do next. She missed the sound of her door opening, the figure standing there, watching her, blank faced and swaying.

The neighbors didn’t hear a single thing over the thumping music, figuring that Loni’s parents were out and she was doing her chores for the weekend, as she had done every weekend since moving in. They missed the screams and fighting. They missed the sound of a door slamming shut before the music started to lower just as her parents pulled into their garage.

Frowning, the man tilted his head before looking to his wife as they stepped into the kitchen. “Where’s Loni?” he asked, the woman shrugging.

“She usually greets us. Mostly hoping that we got her normal snacks,” she said, sounding amused at their daughter’s antics. He hummed. “Are you going to check on her?”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling as if something was off. Looking around the kitchen, he noticed that the table for the breakfast nook was off center. He knew that Loni had cleaned the kitchen earlier with him and they had left it perfectly in place, like they did every weekend. Feeling off about the fact that it was off center, he headed up stairs and paused at the top, finding a trail of dirty clothes coming from Loni’s bedroom. “Hon! Grab the phone. I think something happened!” he called, running to their daughter’s room.

Pushing open the door, he found it in disarray. It looked as if what ever had happened, Loni had been caught mid-cleaning, the ensuing struggle leaving the room in disaster. His wife called up to him, asking what was wrong.

“Call the police!” he cried out, rushing down the stairs and through the living room. The coffee table had been knocked out of it’s normal place, magazines scattered and vase tipped over with the fake flowers scattered everywhere. He noticed a streak of blood, a hand grabbing at the corner of the wall as it passed by the corner.

Following his instinct, he rushed through to the basement closet, opening the door down to it and running down. The washer wasn’t going yet but the dyer was, telling him that it hadn’t been very long since it had been started and when the fight had occurred. He heard his wife talking at the top of the stairs, explaining what she and her husband had found and that their daughter was missing.

He found a few more streaks of blood along the floor, leading up the plastered wall and under it. Cursing, he tried to remember exactly where the hidden door was, wondering just how someone could have opened it as he grabbed the crowbar from the tool shelf along with the dual sided hammer. Shoving the hammer into a belt loop, he took the crowbar and shoved it as hard as he could into the wall, grim smile spreading over his lips as he felt old wood and plaster give under the attack.

Pushing on the crowbar, he started a hole. As he was taking the hammer to the plaster, the police rushed down with a door buster in hand, pulling him away and using it on the exposed part of the door. Pulling the rest of the door down, they found Loni snarling at a woman who was curled up in a corner, a door to the outside locked.

“Bitch tried to give me to something, but I showed her,” Loni snarled, bloodied and bruised and smelling of rotten eggs, but alive and whole. “Bitch shouldn’t mess with a fucking boxer. Slut.”

Her father let out a soft laugh and shook his head as the police took the woman into custody. The woman started to rant about the Devil needing a sacrifice to fight for him on Doom’s Day. Loni just sneered at her and flipped her off with one red nailed finger, eyes slitting as her father rolled his eyes.

“I do not. I have enough, thank you,” he muttered to his daughter, getting a soft laugh.


	3. Day 3 Prompt 3 - missing parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 3, 2020  
> Prompt 3: Parents go missing
> 
> Warnings:  
> The world going to shit  
> Murder  
> Parental murder

Cleaning up his dinner scraps, Alex looked out of the house window and frowned to himself before shaking his head and turned back to his clean up.

“I’m just glad that I’m eighteen,” he said to the cat who meowed at him before grooming his front paw, having come in from a short hunt. “Can’t believe they just…disappeared like that,” he mused, smiling softly as his eyes half-shut. Clicking his tongue, he put out his cat’s food, giving him a stroke down his back before walking to the living room where he put on a DVD.

The electricity still worked, luckily for him, seeing as they had solar and wind set up, and had for a long time. His parents had always been worried about a catastrophe of some kind that would destroy the power grid and turn the rest of the world into a Godless land where it would be survival of the fittest and smartest.

He did suppose that it had been a good idea to be out in the middle of nowhere with a well that was refreshed every spring from the mountain thaw, a river about a mile away powering the water wheel that added more power to the system. They had spent ten years setting up everything that they could think of, including a bunker that went four levels down, buried as deep as they could and with walls built to withstand just about anything.

He could access it from a secondary basement door that didn’t have an exit unless you knew where to find it.

The cable and net though had died pretty much the day that they had disappeared. Even his data was useless, but from what he had seen in the city, he wasn’t surprised.

After all, it wasn’t every day that people went absolutely insane and turned on each other, killing in the streets. In their homes. In businesses. It didn’t matter, if you were susceptible to whatever had happened, you were killing someone or being killed. He supposed the collapse of society as they knew it was kind of inevitable after that. Most countries had dragged their people together, filling only two or three cities instead of the dozens and dozens in a few cases.

He got information over the radio, the countries relearning how to send information out without the long-range net and reforming the internet into something that could be used. Picking up his remote, Alex turned on the TV and started the DVD player of the newest set that he had been able to find the last time he had gone into the city.

“I should go and raid the rest of that building,” he mused to his cat, getting a meow as he hopped onto the back of the couch and laying out on it. “Think the American Coalition will come check up on me?” His cat merped at him. “I really hope they don’t want to go into the basement. I don’t want to explain the large tubs down there. At least not until I’m able to get out far enough from the house. Don’t want to poison myself.”

He smiled as his cat rubbed against his cheek and purred.

Settling back as House was introduced, Alex mused that he really should take his parent’s bodies out into the woods but didn’t want to hurt some poor animal with the litter. He supposed he would just have to wait for them to finish drying out.


	4. Day 4 - Prompt 7 - Imaginary Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 4, 2020  
> Prompt 7: Their child’s imaginary friend wasn’t so imaginary.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Serial killers

Smiling at his daughter, Michael smoothed her hair down, getting a small giggle before he stood up. “Okay, no more playing with Leo, it’s time for bed,” he said, the little girl pouting. 

“Fine,” she sighed, practicing her future teen angst sigh at age six. Michael chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“You are very much your father,” he teased, poking her nose as he made sure her nightlight was turned on. It threw a soft blue light around the room, allowing her to get through the night without night terrors. When they had adopted her, he and his husband had learned that her old brother, a teen of seventeen at the time, had been the one to kill her parents. 

That had been a horrifying story and one that they were going to keep from her until she was old enough to understand what had happened. The guy was still out there after all, doing who the fuck knows. 

“Night night, daddy!” she chirped as she laid on her side, cuddling up to her stuffed rabbit. It was one of the many that she owned, loving stuffed rabbits but terrified of real-life rabbits for some reason. 

Shoving the thoughts out of his mind, he smiled and closed the door most of the way, heading for the master bedroom that he shared with his husband. A couple of hours later, the house was dark and quiet as the attic access in the little girl’s room opened and the ladder slid down with no sound. Two booted feet stepped down onto the ladder, followed by lanky legs, a long torso and long arms that carried a plastic trash bag. 

He smiled at the little girl, running his hand through her chestnut hair before slipping out of her window, closing it behind him. He disappeared into the night after burying his trash in the trash bin in the garage. 

As the dawn light started to peek in, he staggered in, tightening the bandage around his side, cursing silently that his target had a fucking _hunting_ knife in bed with him. But he had used that knife on the fucker. Disappearing up into the attic and the small hidden room, he missed the fact that Michael and his husband were up early to head out for vacation. 

Sharing a look, Michael nodded and shoved his horror at the fact that “Leo” wasn’t so imaginary while they crept back to their room, setting off another alarm and acting as if they had been starting their day. While his husband went down to the kitchen to make a call to the police, Michael woke his daughter, reminding her that they had to get ready to go on vacation!

The little girl cheered and got dressed quickly under her father’s watchful eyes. She stared at the police that came from the back alley, being led in by her other father. Both of her father’s took her out to the car and set her in. 

“Honey, is Leo real?” Micheal asked. 

She looked at her father and nodded, smiling. “Yep! He says that he’s my big brother and that he’s there to protect me from anyone who wants to hurt me,” she chirped, tilting her head at the sound of loud cursing and a small fight. “What’s going on?”

Micheal sighed and stroked her cheek. “We were going to wait to tell you for a while but...you do have a big brother, but, I hate to say it, he’s not a nice man. At least not to others. He hurt your birth parents, honey. And he’s most likely hurt others.”

“Does this mean he has to be punished?” she asked, pouting. “Like when I get timeout?”

Lee smiled sadly and squatted down. “Remember when we told you that jail is like a big person’s version of timeout and instead of minutes, they look at years?” he asked, getting a nod. “Well, it’s most likely he’ll never be let out of timeout.”

“Big naughties like breaking the law means big punishments,” Michael said, smoothing a hand on his cheek. “Maybe, one day, you’ll be able to go see him and ask him why. But right now? The police are taking him to his punishment.”

The little girl sighed and nodded. “Being naughty means you get punished. I understand. Are we still going to the big park though?” she asked. 

Micheal and Lee chuckled softly. “Yes, we are. Just not right now. Once we can go back in, I’ll make you some breakfast before we leave,” he promised. She cheered, ignoring thoughts of Leo for now. He had been naughty after all. 

And she was a good girl.


	5. Day 5 - Prompt 13 - Missing Sibling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 5, 2020  
> Prompt 13: A missing sibling reappears in a girl’s room.
> 
> Warnings:   
> Don’t fuck around with beings who have no morals  
> Blood  
> Kidnapping

She stared. 

He stared back.

“You…” she started, the boy before her tilting his head to the side. “You disappeared.”  
  


“Yes,” he said after a moment. 

“Ten years ago,” she continued. He blinked several times, looking to her calendar with a frown on his face. “You disappeared. In the woods. On a camping trip. When we were six.” He turned back to look at her. “And you don’t look beyond the age of eight.”

“So it seems,” he said, looking at his hands, curling the fingers and relaxing them. He looked up at her and frowned softly. “You grew up.”

“It’s been ten years and I don’t really think you’re my brother,” she returned, the boy tilting his head. 

“You have a birthmark on your left hip. The mirror mark to the one on my right hip. They come from where we were born connected,” he said. The girl continued to stare. “And you always said we were still connected because of that mark.”

“I see,” she said, sliding out of bed, keeping it between her and him. “Where did you go?” she asked. 

He hummed. “I don’t remember. Not really. It’s fuzzy,” he mused. “I think...that those who have come from the Old Countries took me instead of the natives of this land,” he said, tilting his head back. “All I remember is that I was there to be entertainment.”

“Entertainment…” She frowned. “What kind of entertainment are we talking about?”

The boy looked at her. “Just entertainment. Most do not wish to sleep with a human,” he huffed, shaking his head. “I was amusing to them. They do not have the same morals that humanity does.”

She snorted and started to inch towards the door, feeling her instincts screaming to get the fuck out of the bedroom. The boy before her wasn’t normal. It wasn’t the way he spoke but rather the way he watched him. 

Cold.

Calculating. 

Thoughtful. 

The person before her _wasn’t_ her brother and she wanted to get away from him as fast as she could. Probably right into finding someone who could cut the connection between her and her brother. As she pressed against the wall, carefully keeping him in her line of sight, she slid over towards the door. 

“You really don’t want to do that,” he said, watching her move. 

“Do what?” she asked, grabbing the doorknob.

“Open the door. You know something is going on, don’t you?” he asked. He stood, seemingly growing closer to their proper age. “You know that you should run but really you shouldn’t run. They’ll find you no matter what you try.”

She stared at him before picking up her bag, throwing the heavy thing at him before jerking her door open. All she could remember after that was her brother sighing and brushing her hair back, shaking his head. 

“I told you that they would find you. They were just waiting. You should have just waited for me to leave,” he said softly as they disappeared from the room. Three years later, he was rather surprised that she had broken to the point of killing to get free, going after those who had held them captive with anything that would hurt them to get free. 

He was surprised when she dragged him to someone who their captors had considered a bane on their existence and gotten them protected. 

He wasn’t surprised when she left the child that she had in the forest and disappeared into the larger cities. 

She wasn’t surprised when he returned to their captives soon after and dared any of them to try her again. She had their blood on her hands and in her veins now. She was their worst fucking nightmare. 

A human with their lifespan and the ability to destroy them.


	6. Day 6 Prompt 23 - Missing Siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 6, 2020  
> Prompt 23: Finding pictures and videos of a sibling that they didn’t know about. 
> 
> But if they had grown up together, why couldn’t they remember them?
> 
> Warnings:   
> Creepy Brotherly Love?

Shuffling through the various pictures and letters that his parents had kept, he smiled at some of the memories that he was seeing. Like the pictures from his fifth birthday and the time that his mother had made a cheesecake that had been so dense that it had been like wet cement.

His father had still eaten most of the damn thing to make his mother happy.

Shaking his head, he closed the shoe box up and put it to the side. He was looking for something specific for a school project and knew that it was in one of the boxes of photos. Pushing another box to the side, this one labeled with ‘grandparents’, he found a box that he didn’t remember seeing before. Pausing, he tilted his head.

“What in the world…?” he asked himself, pulling the box closer to him, shuffling so that the light from the closet bulb gave him a better view. Pursing his lips, he flipped the lid open of the large shoe box and pulled out a chunk of the neatly contained photos within.

It was a picture of him with…another baby that looked just like him, down to the onesie that he was wearing and the dusting of black hair. Blinking several times, he flipped to the next picture, finding his mother holding the two babies. He continued to work his way through the pictures in his hands, each one with himself and what he could only guess was his sibling?

Frowning to himself, he continued to go through the pictures. Pictures from when they got home. Pictures from the first year of their life. Pictures from when they were learning to walk, talk and play as babies did. Pictures from their first birthday with cake smeared over their mouths. Pictures that ran all the way up until their fifth birthday, the second child appearing less and less in the main pictures.

He sat down on his heels, staring at the last picture, the same picture that hung in the hallway of his house along with dozens of others. The first day of preschool but without the other boy who had stood next to him the entire time.

“Why can’t I remember you? I should know you if you’re a sibling,” he muttered, tapping his fingers on the picture. One thing that he had always been good at was remembering faces from years ago, even as young as two. Pursing his lips, he went through the pictures, taking in the matching face through the years, finding that they were getting more and more sad, upset.

_Angry_.

Shivering at the last full picture of who he could only suppose was his twin, he stared at the angry look on his face, glaring at whoever was holding the camera. He looked so mad, as if the world had wronged him in the few years that he had been alive. Licking his lips and wondering why he couldn’t remember this seemingly missing twin, he started to dig further into the closet, finding more boxes.

Boxes of medical files for both he and his sibling. Boxes that held medical files about his brother’s ‘sociopathic tendencies’ and almost ‘stalkerish’ need to protect his younger brother. The name on the top wasn’t his so was most likely that of his brothers.

Reading through the files, he lost himself wondering just why he couldn’t remember the boy that the files talked about. About how he was institutionalized after attacking someone when they were eight for daring to hurt him, causing him to hit his head.

He found his medical files from that time, having vague memories of his parents watching over him, his head constantly hurting and the migraines that haunted him from then on. He could remember, just barely, that the doctor had told him that he had some amnesia concerning what had gone on, but they had never once said a thing about his brother.

He missed the soft footsteps that came up behind him, but not the sting to his shoulder. Swaying, he groaned as he was caught in strong arms and lifted up, falling into a sedated state with the sound of a rich chuckle just in his ear.

The older twin smiled at his sleeping brother, smoothing a bit of hair back as he stood up and walked out of the house. His mother and father, if one could call them that, had stuck him in an asylum when he had been eight, forgetting about him beyond a monthly allowance and making sure that his bills were paid.

But the man who ran it hadn’t forgotten about him, instead working with him to get his anger at their parents under control. He had taught him so many things, such as working the courts into his favor. So he had, without telling his parents a damn thing.

And now he was free of his parents and had custody of his baby brother. He would come back eventually to gather pictures and other things but first, he had to take his brother home.

Away from the nightmare house the covered the darkness that had spawned him. Never again would he leave his brother behind.


	7. Day 7 Prompt ? - Creepy Cake for Cutsy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 7, 2020  
> Prompt 1: It was a time-honored tradition for their company. 
> 
> Who could make the creepiest food for the floor’s potluck? 
> 
> Winner gets 100 bucks and three extra paid days off.
> 
> Requested by: CutsyCat
> 
> Warnings:  
> Messy cake?

Pushing the cart with her cake into the room, Amy hummed happily, glad that she had had the time over the weekend to make her entry for the scariest food contest that her work threw. Each floor had their own contests for a total of ten winners. Each winner got a hundred bucks, and the top winner got an extra three days of paid vacation or sick leave tacked onto what they had.

She was hoping to win that extra three days since she wanted to head out with her parents to a Christmas retreat that year and those days would let her drive out with them.

Smiling at her co-workers, she waved to a few and eyed the table. Amongst the usual punch bowls with floating eyes made from grapes and skull shaped ice cubes, there was a dozen entries. Brains made from noodles, a gray sauce of some kind with chunky bits with thinly sliced tomatoes tossed in for effect. Fingers made from hotdogs. Even a cannibal’s delight of a head on a tray that looked to be made from cheese with crackers.

Shaking her head, she walked up to their boss and stopped in front of him. “Great timing, Amy,” he greeted. He eyed the box that she had holding her cake before smiling. “This should be fun. Someone made peeled eyeballs out of black grapes and did a pretty decent job of it. While someone else made a gingerbread torso that are liked,” he said.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. I’m just hoping that I can get something. I would like the big first prize, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it,” she admitted even as they carefully pulled the box down from around the cake. Stepping back, they stared at it, her bosses eyebrows raising at the deceptive nature of it. The front looked rather normal, if you ignored the carefully dripped red on the side of the five-tier cake.

The man and woman standing on top looked just like every other couple who had just had their wedding. Again, if you ignored the carefully painted blood stains on her dress and his white shirt. But it was the back that told the story.

A copy of the bride and groom were on the top second tier and the tier just below the bottom. The bride looked fine, if not a bit dripping in red blood with a serene smile on her face, holding a rather large knife like she was holding a bouquet of flowers. The groom though was far from looking fine, laying on his back as if he was on a set of stairs after being hacked and slashed.

His shirt, tie and jacket were near tatters, covered in blood and showing the wounds underneath.

“You got creative this year,” he said finally, looking to Amy, who just smiled at him.

“I have a friend who was writing something while taking out some anger issues,” she said, shrugging. “It made me think I could probably do this. What took so long for me was getting the bride and groom built just right,” she said, pushing the cart over to the table. They lifted it up and she filled out the information card.

“Red Velvet cake with a buttercream frosting and a dark cherry chocolate filling between each layer. Nice,” he drawled, putting the card down and taking the proper pictures. “I think that’s everyone,” he mused. Sending the pictures of the various entries on his floor, Amy wandered off to find some of her co-workers to talk about what they were doing over the coming weekend.

A few hours later, they were standing around, waiting while their boss counted the votes on the offered dishes, the man smiling as he came to stand before them, the group falling silent. “This year’s winner by a landslide is Amy! Congrats, you won the one-hundred-dollar bonus. I’m just waiting to see who won the main prize but it’s going to be a close one,” he called out.

Everyone whistled and clapped, having gotten a look at the cake before it had been sliced into to try. Not only had it looked good but it had tasted good.

An hour later, Amy was happily climbing into her car with just a little bit of the cake left, her platter in hand along with an extra three day’s for her vacation. She had paused to drop off her request for time off during Christmas, her boss already telling her that it would be approved quickly.


	8. Day 8 Prompt 21 - Creepy Doll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 8, 2020  
> Prompt 21: A scary doll comes to life
> 
> Warnings:  
> Killer doll

He didn’t like his sister’s doll. The older female had bought it while she and their father had been antiquing, the two often going during the weekend. She had found the damn thing in a dark corner, on top of a wardrobe that their father was looking to strip and re-stain along with updating the hardware on it. And the moment she had brought it into the house, things were starting to go weird.

First his father’s daily planner went missing. Then his textbook for his Senior Algebra class had someone how ended up in the attic with a bunch of his past high school textbooks. Then his mother’s bank book and credit card had gone missing, only turning up in his sister’s bag the next day.

Then the doll itself would pop up in the oddest places. On the seat of his toilet down in his basement room. Or on the back of his chair in his office space. Sometimes she was in a cabinet, usually one of their snack cabinets. He had found that the bags of chips that he had open had been absolutely crushed, which had upset him.

His parents had been nice enough to replace them since he used his own allowance to buy his snacks and treats, but they couldn’t figure out what was going on since it was only his snacks that had gotten destroyed. He had bought a cabinet that now sat in the basement living room area that was locked to keep his snacks from being destroyed after his once a month cookie bag had been torn apart and spread all over the kitchen.

His sister had brushed off his thoughts about what was going on. Granted he had flat out blamed the doll for doing it, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t far off. His parents had dismissed it as his imagination from reading a book or seeing a movie with killer dolls.

It was as if they forgot he _hated_ horrors or anything spooky. Killer dolls were far on the list of things for him to watch, even if he did know who and what Chucky was.

Shuddering softly, he slipped out of his room to go out into the garage to grab the five-gallon water bottle that had been dropped off earlier that day to take down to the basement. Grabbing it, he missed the doll that stood in the corner, watching him, before he headed back down to his room. The doll smiled and followed after, already planning on how to get to its family.

It had been at that damn store for so long, ever since it’s owner had died in such a tragic accident. It knew it had been close to two years but the girl that had found it was close to the parents. At least in blood.

It just had to wait for the time to finish dealing with the ones who knew who what it was. It couldn’t allow them to hurt it. It had so many things to do yet. Such as find the descendants of those who had push it’s soul into the doll so long ago. But first he had to take care of the family before it could hunt down those descendants.

It had heard that there was family coming to visit…But the son was being a pain, wasn’t he? It would have to deal with him sometime soon first though. That would take some time to figure out eventually, so it wasn’t in too much of a rush to find the family. No need to rush things.


	9. Day 9 Prompt 8 - Missing Girl In Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 9, 2020  
> Prompt 8: A girl has gone missing in the woods.
> 
> Warnings: talk of creatures.  
> Living woods.  
> Possible child predator.

Mary had been missing for a week already and the people all had a bad feeling that they weren’t going to find her. Not a live at least.

The woods that surrounded the town had a habit of eating up children who dared to walk their paths without staying on the paths and not giving them back alive. The only children who had walked away had been the ones who were blessed. Or in the case of his friend, those who had banded together to escape the darkness that walked under the branches of ancient trees.

Lee sighed and shuddered as he stared out of the window to the woods just past his fence. He had long ago moved into the home that he lived in, cleaned it out spiritually and physically, but still sometimes? He felt as if he was being watched and it came from the woods.

“I don’t think she’s coming back,” Kyle admitted as Clarissa hummed, handing out coffee mugs to them. “I really don’t.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Clarissa said, standing with Lee in front of the window. “We all know that there is only eight of us who walked away from those woods. And we can’t step into them without someone with us as we learned when Markus went into the woods and didn’t come out.”

Kyle and Lee nodded, remembering their friend who had escaped once before with them but getting lost in the woods when he had dared to enter them alone, heading the call that all of them heard. The silent urge that pulled at them to return to the woods to walk the hidden paths that ran through the trees and under the branches.

Lee took a deep breath before sipping his coffee, feeling the heat ground him and push those thoughts into the back of his head. “Do you think she could be one of the smart ones?” he asked finally.

Kyle grunted. “Nah. She was bound for my history class next year if she didn’t get her grades up,” he admitted. “She’s also at the tail end of what the forest wants or takes. I’m thinking that it’s not just the forest that took her.”

“Someone of the town?” Clarissa asked, tilting her head. “She just turned fourteen, didn’t she?” she asked. Kyle and Lee nodded. “So it’s possible it was another human who took her. We’ll have to look into that maybe.”

“Let the police do that,” Lee said. “I can talk to the guy who is head of her case. If they can’t find her soon or find any evidence of her being taken by a human, they’ll probably end up sending the case to my part of the force,” he said, looking to his office where the current files were sitting.

Much like the X-Files, his department had an odd cases part to it. But unlike the X-Files, most times the cases that landed on his desk turned out to be nothing. Just cases that the investigating cops had half-assed and that he had to finish off for them. Still, there were the occasional case that landed in his hands.

All were connected to the woods.

He turned back to looking out of the window, sighing softly as he shoved a hand through his hair. Kyle leant against him and sipped his coffee with a frown. He had a feeling that the woods hadn’t been the one to get the girl. At least at first. While the woods held a dark and dangerous being, it also held a being that cared for the broken.

The Used.

The Hurt.

If she had been taken by a human and left in the woods, the other being would have most likely taken her and would return her eventually. It was just a matter of time.


	10. Day 10 Prompt 25 - Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day: October 10, 2020  
> Prompt 25: They found a well with a ladder in the middle of the woods.
> 
> They weren’t expecting the bodies that they found at the bottom of that well.
> 
> Warnings: dead bodies, old  
> Historic fuckery

He smirked at his friend as she led the way, talking about this well that was a part of an old plantation that had burnt to the ground nearly fifty years ago. It was said that it had dried out years before that and the few pictures that had lasted through the years showed a ladder that went down the side of the well.

Molly was a history nut at the best of times but when she found something that she could visit, she became crazed about getting to see it. And with this well, she wanted to see if they could climb down the ladder. They did have a rope ladder that they could anchor in various ways and climb down if they couldn’t, and really? McKenzie was looking forward to this.

He looked over to his other three friends, he snorted at the fact that Maria was talking about all of the dangers of doing this while making sure that their supplies were enough for the trip. She was also making sure her phone worked while they were out in the middle of nowhere, pleased that the bars were still strong and that their small GPS was still tracking their movements.

“Come on, Maria,” Ken said, slinging an arm around the pretty female’s shoulders as his best friend and longtime boyfriend, Markus, rolled his eyes with a smile. “We’re fine. The GPS is military-grade, which your mother insisted on when she learned we were starting these hikes. We had it fully charged by the time that we got up here. Our phones are fully charged. Our battery banks are fully charged, and we have three of them for each of us.”

“Not only that,” he drawled, “but we have emergency supplies, including blankets just in case, and our trucks aren’t that far away from here. We came in as close as we could without getting fucked in turning around and driving out.” He smiled and tapped her nose, getting a moan.

“Come on, you guys!” Molly called, bouncing at the end of the trail that opened to a large field like area. “Miles! I see the homestead!” she called. Miles hummed, eyeing the burnt-out stone walls that were still standing, making him frown slightly.

“Yeah, I see. The well is a little ways from here right?” he asked, heading after their friend. Molly nodded and pulled out the map, sliding a finger along the path line that she had created.

“See. It’s a couple of minutes from here,” she said, pointing to the tree lines on the other side of the field. The group of five walked over to the well and soon had the ladder anchored down. Ken and Miles agreed to head down since they were the biggest and knew how to climb the walls if they had to do so. Markus, Maria, and Molly took their packs, Ken pulling out their smaller bags for basics and handing Miles one.

They packed some water, food, and first aid kits along with phones, power banks, and a few other things just in case before heading down into the well. Stepping off the ladder, Miles pulled out his lantern, Ken pulling his own, turning them on. “Wow,” Ken got out, staring at the wood that lined the bottom of the well. The dirt was dry, showing that the water in it had long since dried out and even the storms they got often were sucked down to the water tables.

“You can say that again,” Miles breathed, dancing the lights around the walls before finding lines in the wall that looked more like doors. Walking over, he pushed at the wall, finding that it swung slightly open before stopping with a groan. “Hey, I think I found something,” he called out, seeing his friends lean over the edge. “I’m going to take a video of it,” he told them, Lee pulling out his phone and opening the video recording app on it.

Pushing against the door, Mile was able to get it open before stepping away and leading the way with his flashlight, looking around with a frown. A short hallway led the way into a round room that looked as if it had been carved out of the walls, wood, and stone mixed to keep it steady. Coming to a stop when his flashlight landed on a grinning skull with what used to be skin pulled taut over it.

Swallowing, he grabbed onto Lee and yanked at him. “Go out and tell the others to call the cops. I think we just figured out a mystery of the own,” he breathed, Lee, making a sound that sounded partially curious and partially worried. He pointed his light at the dress of one of the mummified bodies. She was dressed in simple travel clothes, but it was quite obviously well made. A finely crafted necklace, while dirty and dark, had very obviously been well loved and worn around her neck.

“I’m going,” Lee squeaked, leaving the room, and calling up to the other three to call the cops and tell them they found bodies. Old ones if the clothes were any indication.

An hour later and the group was heading back to their homes, shocked at having found bodies. Even more, so that the bodies were quite obviously that of a white woman of the station and her lover of color who had been killed by the girl’s father.

Molly’s voice came over the speakers in Mile’s car as Lee rubbed at his arms. “I don’t think I want to go visiting any new places.”


	11. Day 11 Prompt 28 - manuscripts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 11: October 11, 2020  
> Prompt 28: The manuscripts were from an old estate sale. He had gotten permission to publish them under the name of the writer already. 
> 
> The first manuscript had been so interesting after all. 
> 
> But the new ones that he read? They talked about things that had happened long after the writer had died. 
> 
> What were they?
> 
> Warnings: stories telling the future
> 
> Some political feels.

Dropping the box onto the desk with a groan, Michael settled down behind his desk and pulled the lid off the top. He had just gotten the forms signed to publish the stories that had been written by the mother of the woman he had bought the manuscripts and needed to transcribe them into a proper file.

And most likely give them a light editing like he had had to do with the first manuscript that the daughter had sent to him. It had been written about the attacks that had taken down the Twin Towers of New York and been respectful, told from a man who had watched it happen from his window just blocks away from the towers. It had been heartfelt and tugged at the heartstrings, but the ending had been nice all things considered. The guy was in therapy, had a career he liked, had his lover, and had only a few nightmares of that day even ten years later.

Shaking his head, he shoved the thoughts back and pulled out the manuscripts to start putting them into order. Each manuscript was varying sizes but all of them had a title page with the name of the story, the date that it was written, and a basic summary. He paid attention only to the date written, wanting to go through them in the proper order.

He had been told that the woman had worked as a journalist and had written short stories here and there for zines, but beyond that, she had not published anything longer than that.

Michael finished getting everything in order and pulled the first manuscript towards him, finding that it was from the point of a man who had joined the military. It seemed to be set after the Nine-Eleven attacks, where he had joined the military when the president had called to hunt down the one who had called for the attacks.

Frowning, he flipped it open and started to read it, the opening scene two friends sitting outside on a porch a month after the attacks. The main character was talking about renewing his call in before the government did. He talked about how he heard rumors that the government would recall people even if it was just to train people.

Michael put the manuscript down when it started to read about how the other character wouldn’t be recalled nor rejoin because of the torn muscles and fucked up shoulder that he had. It was…It was the same conversation that he had with his friend before he had rejoined as a drill sergeant. They had sat out on the porch of his friend’s house, their partners in the kitchen talking about something or another while they made lunch for the four of them.

He had told his friend that the military wouldn’t take him, not after he had fucked his shoulder up so badly during his tour along with the various other injuries. His friend had rejoined and the rumors that he had heard about had come true. He had done a couple of rounds over sea’s, but he mostly trained before passing off people to their new commanders.

Opening to another page in the manuscript, he read the letter that his friend had written to his wife one day before he had come home with a blown-out knee.

Taking a deep breath, Michael checked when the manuscript was written date and found that it had been written two years _before_ Nine-Eleven had happened. Swallowing, he started to scan through the various manuscripts. Quite a few of them were rather short, told from various people who had been affected by what had happened that day, and the following years that came.

From the first Black President, the story told from a neo-Nazi who renounced his beliefs when his family ended up doing _better_ under the man then in previous years.

He took a deep breath as he looked at the very last manuscript, mind whirling with the thought that somehow the woman had seen what would happen in the years to come, long before things happened. He almost feared the last manuscript.

Feared it in such a way because it was so thick, and he had a feeling that things would make him fear the future to come.

Michael took a deep breath and decided that he had to show his lover. The man practiced ancient magics and believed in Gods older than the Christian God. If anyone could give him answers on what was going, it would be him.

Finding his lover placing a burning incense on his altar with fresh dragon fruit sliced and placed into a bowl on it already, Michael smiled at the calm air of the man. “Hey there,” he greeted when brown eyes looked up at him with a knowing sparkle in them.

“Hey. You have something on your mind?” he asked, knowing that Michael would never bother him when he was dealing with his alter or a ritual without a good reason. It was all about respect between them.

“I need you to listen to this series of stories and tell me what you think,” Michael finally said, moving in and sitting on a floor pillow before the alter. The room was just a small room off to the side of his office, a kind of storage room originally that had been turned into a place of rituals and calm.

Michael took a deep breath when his lover nodded his head and started to talk about what he had read in the first batch of manuscripts. Including the one before the one in his hand that had gone up until the month before the next election of twenty-sixteen. His lover listened to him, watching the incense curl, and become brittle as Michael told him his worries.

Clicking his tongue after Michael had been finished, still holding the last manuscript in his hands, the man lit a candle, took the manuscript, and started to read the story of a man who had fought in the military and was now disable watch the United States go to hell under the rule of a man who couldn’t keep his businesses going.

They talked about how often the publishing company would want to publish them, Michael saying that they could combine some of the smaller books into two and they wanted to publish twice a year until the entire series was done. Starting in six months.

His lover told him to start getting to work.

When twenty-sixteen came around, the last book had gained a reputation for being in your face with how things could go if you didn’t vote smart and the United States gained a female president. The chosen people for each part of the government were chosen for their agreeing policies and when twenty-twenty hit, the US went on lockdown just like the rest of the world.

People who had to work though? They got the needed help, hotels that sat empty were filled with those who worked, people donating small refrigerators, microwaves, hot plates, and everything else that they could for them. They worked hard on figuring out how to kill the virus that ravaged the world, working with the various governments of the world.

Michael and his lover? Had built a good business out of various things that helped them make money while staying at home. He silently thanked the woman who had written her stories but wondered just if there were any other manuscripts in that house that the daughter hadn’t given over and what they said.

In a small home, a woman smiled as she put the last book of the published series into the trunk that had several more manuscripts within. Three of them had been written by her mother before she had passed, but the last six manuscripts? They had been written by her. Maybe one day she would contact Michael and have him publish the nine books.

But not yet. They had to live in the present right now and they couldn’t do that knowing the future after all. 


	12. Day 12 Prompt 22 - Anti-Christ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 12: October 11, 2020  
> Prompt 22: The Anti-Christ was born.
> 
> So was his counterpart, the Son of Christ.
> 
> What no one was expecting was who would destroy the Earth and who would work to save it.
> 
> Warnings: Religious fuckery  
> AntiChrist with a Twist

Standing next to his father, he groaned as he ran his hand through his hair. Lucifer frowned slightly, flicking his braid back. “I do not believe that God thought that the Rapture would go quite like this,” he mused.

His son, named Kadin by his human parents, glared at him. “God doesn’t understand why you threw the absolute shit fit that you had when you Fell,” he stated. “He didn’t want to understand why preferring one child over the other is a bad idea. Even humans understand why.”

“Indeed.” Lucifer watched as buildings burned in the settlement that Kadin had moved out when it had been attacked. “I don’t think any of us were expecting his grandson to go insane.”

Kadin snorted. “They allowed her to be raised by people with extreme religious perceptions. Just because they pray to Him so often does not mean that they are the best to raise a child,” he said. “They wanted everyone who was gay in any way, not of certain skin tones or certain religious thinking gone. And they made sure that he was raised as such,” he hissed, glaring at the sky. “He is _exceedingly_ lucky that I had so much political pull to stop some of the shit that he tried to pull before saying fuck it and going full terrorist on us. His following isn’t religious in the right way. They’re a cult.”

Lucifer hummed and nodded. “I will speak with Father once more and see if he can’t do anything about his grandson. The little bastard has set back the entire world hundreds of years, including religion-wise. The old Gods have found new worship, most notably War and Love in their various names. All over the world, they’re begging for Love to spread and for War to stop the new Messiah. Not that he is any kind of messiah. Not like Jesus. That man was a good man.”

“Because he was raised by a good woman and a good man who didn’t allow his status as a future Messiah to go to his head. They were his parents. Their word was law and they made sure that he didn’t become overconfident in the fact that his Father was God, staying humble and remembering that while he lived, he was still human. A Blessed human, but human still,” Kaiden said, sighing as he sat down on a rock to watch the settlement burn.

They had created the settlement with rudimentary buildings to allow them to come back together and get their supplies figured out. But some dick in their ranks had gone behind their backs and given the Son of Christ and his damn cult where they were. The fucker had attacked them late at night, one of his father’s minions having warned him about ten minutes before so they had been able to get quite a few out of the area before things had gone down. He had lost a few people to the attack, but most were safely on their way to the next place, that no one had known about.

The traitors had already been taken out and their souls were taken to Hell for their actions. They would find that their ‘savior’ had no right to promise them a place in Heaven because of the things that he had done.

“I wish that they had listened when I had started warning everyone about him. Giving him such power to do what he wanted…” Kaiden sighed, Lucifer patting his shoulder.

“Your people are well protected. I will speak with God and tell Him to either step down if he doesn’t want to do anything about his grandson and give it to Jesus or to do something about his grandson before I call for the treaty between our respective places to be called into action,” Lucifer said, Kaiden looking up at his father. From the few memories that he had of his life in Hell, he could remember vividly the treaty.

The treaty stated that if one or the other kingdom tried to destroy the world without a good reason or during the proper time that was set before God was even a thing. And that extended to Children: Lucifer’s son, God’s son, and Grandson. All of them were under this treaty.

Demons had tried and been destroyed by Lucifer himself for trying to break the treaty.

Angels had tried to and been destroyed by God for trying it.

Now? Now God was allowing his grandson to run rampant ten years before the Rapture was supposed to happen, destroying the world. And it looked like Lucifer was going to force God to either do something about it or to give up His seat of power to his son.

Kaiden mused that he would prefer to have God as he retired, and remember that while he was an all-powerful being, He wasn’t worshipped as much as the Old Gods had been. And would be now that his Grandson had fucked up so hard. He wondered just how the world would change when this was all over.

Feeling his father leave, Kaiden stood and started to head out, heading for the next settlement that his people would be going for. He had to plan on how best to take down the idiot if God or Jesus didn’t do anything about it. He already knew, could _taste it_ , that Jesus’ son would land in his father’s realm.

After all, you are not a good person when you are so egotistical that you think you can be judge, jury, and executioner for the world.


	13. Day 13 Prompt 31 - Lies and Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 13: October 12, 2020  
> Prompt 31: They were playing a game. 
> 
> One person out of four was telling the truth but the others were telling lies. 
> 
> The one telling the truth though? Told the story of a killing stalker. 
> 
> And how he took someone from them.
> 
> Warnings: off-screen death  
> Magical wards that kill  
> Stalking behavior

Sitting around the campfire, the group of friends were all laughing at the end of the story that Brinda had just finished telling.

Brinda, Alex, Brian, Richard, and Lee had gotten together to go out to have some fun before their last year of high school started for them.

Brinda had just finished with her story about a werewolf who had been under a familial curse and the others clapped, all agreeing that it was a good story. They had all decided to do Lies and Truth, a spinoff of Nine Lies and One Truth. To play it, Lee had torn a piece of paper into five parts, wrote four Lies on the slips, and one Truth on it. After that, mixing it all up, they had gotten their pieces of papers and kept the papers hidden.

Lee had gone first, then Richard, then Brian and finally Brinda. Now it was Alex’s turn and he stared at his piece of paper. Folding the paper up, he rested his arms on his knees and looked over the group of people before him, all of them looking at him as he smiled.

“My story is that of a stalker and a family,” he started, gaze turning to the fire that danced, consuming the logs in the pit. “This family was normal. They had a mother and a father. A son and two daughters. A grandmother who knew things before the rest of the world knew what would happen.” He shot a look at his friends, finding them leaning forward as he talked.

He smiled slightly again before going back to looking at the fire, continuing the story.

“This was just before the veil of hiding dropped all over the world mind you. The son was the oldest, protective of his younger sisters and so very willing to learn about the hidden worlds around them. But what they hadn’t thought of was that the grandmother would be from a family who talked about the hidden things. It brought attention to the family. Good attention in a lot of ways.” His smile was brittle as it tugged at his lips. “And bad. Bad in the way that someone didn’t like her talking about what she had put out. What she had written as stories for teens and adults.

“He found where she lived and watched her carefully. He found her family by following her every so carefully. He couldn’t trip her wards after all. They would destroy him down to his very soul for the things that he wished to do to her.” He picked up his bottle of soda and took a swig, feeling the fizzy drink slide down his throat. “And oh the things that he wanted to do.”

Brinda shivered at the look in her friend’s eyes. It wasn’t often that Alex told his stories, weaving truth and lies together so well it was never easy to figure out what was wrong and what wasn’t.

Alex shifted and leaned back in his seat, feet sticking out towards the fire and warming up as he thought of how to word the things next. There was no reason to give them many details after all.

“He found her grandchildren and her children. He found out that they believed and _knew_ just as she did. He found that they would keep her work going even after she left the living world. And he _hated_ that thought. So, he started to stalk the family,” he said, playing with the bottle of soda in his hands. “He wanted to work the magic that he reveled in. The slick and slimy kind that left damage to the soul but never the body. The kind that tore you apart slowly, working to drag you into an evil that nothing else could. But the grandmother figured out what was going on when she was told by the grandson about the wards shimmering sometimes at night.”

Lee breathed out a slow breath as he shared a look with Brian, the other man frowning but not saying a thing. They all knew that when wards shimmered, they were being tested by an outside source, their laid wards to protect them from others with mean intentions, animals, and bugs solid and clear around them.

“She didn’t take that well and went to find out who was daring to touch the wards that protected her family. She found him. Standing outside of the house of her family late at night, glaring up at the house,” Alex said, crossing his legs again. “She went into the house like she had done thousands of times before and soothed her grandson from his nightmares. The next day she laid stronger wards, new wards. She knew that the man thought that he would get through, but she tied them to her very being. If he tried, she would drag him into death, binding him to her to make sure that he could never leave.”

He looked up at them with a blank face, seeing the horror on their faces. They all knew that to bind someone to them in death meant that if the person bound was brought back, they would have to share the body with the other soul. And the other soul would kill themselves the moment that they could. The bound soul would never know when they switched out or when they would die again, but it would happen.

Alex smirked and tilted his head. “The next night she died in her sleep, dragging his soul with her into death. The father and grandson found the mangled body the next morning. The veil fell that night, showing the world what they had never seen.”

Brinda shivered as Alex finished his story. “I hate your stories sometimes,” she complained, getting a low chuckle from him as he shrugged. “So, remember the rules. If we can’t figure out who has told a lie and who has the truth, none of us know until the person tells us,” she said, breaking the atmosphere.

The group decided that Alex had mixed truth with a lie and labeled his story as one of the lies. Alex had just said nothing, looking at the piece of paper that said in Brinda’s cursive writing ‘Truth’ and tossed it into the fire.


	14. Day 16 Prompt 16 - Stuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 16: October 16, 2020  
> Prompt 16: Waking up in the prison wasn’t surprising. The frat he was rushing often did it to the new pledges. 
> 
> Not being able to get out wasn’t a part of the plan though.
> 
> Warnings:

Waking up after a hard night of celebrating one of his frat brother’s graduation, he groaned as he sat up, rubbing at his head, feeling the headache throb. Sighing, he shifted again and caught the sound of almost plastic like rustling under him, an almost hay like sound under that. Cracking his eyes open, he saw the gray floor, unbelieving that it was real until his feet connected with the cold concrete.

Blinking several times in the weak dawn light, he lifted his head and looked around the room, finding that he was in a prison cell. The door was open, swinging instead of sliding, the bars rusting in some spots. Looking to the opposite wall, he had a window that allowed light into the room, small as it was, that was also barred and under it a toilet with sink.

Both items looked like he wouldn’t dare drink from it. Luckily for him, there was a water bottle sitting on the small table that was held to the wall by a strong arm under it. Along with the water was a thing of aspirin, waiting for him to take it and hopefully kill some of the pain in his head. Standing up, still unbelieving that his brothers had decided to pull the prison escape haze on them, he took the aspirin and downed the water, hoping that there was more outside of his cage.

Feeling steady enough, pain notwithstanding, he left his cell and looked up and down the cell block. There were more cells, some with doors closed, some with them partially open. At the end of the hall were two different doors that lead out. The signs above the doors, while dated and worn with age, gave him a hint as to which way he should turn to head out of the prison, or at least get to the main area.

Sighing, he turned right and walked down the hallways, glad that he had thought to wear actual clothes the night when he went to bed. He had a feeling that walking around in just sweats or boxers would have been awkward.

Shaking his head, he pushed the door open and followed the signs to the main area where the prisoners used to gather during the day. He paused at finding a girl hunched over a coffee cup and looking exhausted. Something about her sparked a memory, something from his years in high school.

Looking around, he saw no one else.

“If you’re looking for others, don’t. They were all grabbed,” she said, sounding exhausted as she carefully sipped her coffee. “We have two days to rest and relax if she dropped you here. She likes the fun of hunting for her next meal,” she continued, looking at him with vibrant blue eyes. “What year is it?”

“Uh…” He swallowed. “Twenty-seventeen.”

She cursed softly. “Fifteen years. Fuck, has it really been that long?” she sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t expect to get out. You won’t be able to,” she warned when he headed for the door that looked as if it led outside. He just shot her a look, thinking that she was nuts. She just sighed as he shoved out the door, heading for the kitchen where the coffee pot was waiting with a fresh pot of coffee.

She had to give it to the bitch: she made sure her prey was well fed and did things on a schedule. Granted that schedule was usually “attack between these hours on these days and go for however long I feel like” but she made sure that they were fed and able to get some rest. Of course, she had gotten rather good playing the games and had gotten into the rather impressive library that the bitch had tried to seal off.

She was almost done going through the journals from those who had come before her and was putting the clues together on how to get out of the prison.

She placed a coffee cup down, full of hot coffee, onto a table when the kitchen doors slammed open by a now wild-eyed man. “I warned you that you wouldn’t be able to get out,” she said. “Not to say that we don’t see the outside, but the fact that it’s a prison means that we can’t leave it. We’re prey. We are gathered and hunted. The fact that you’re here means that she’s gotten all of the others and since we know each other, she needs fresh prey. You’re gonna see another ten to twenty people get dropped off,” she said.

He stared at her before making a wounded sound. “We’re not the first?” he got out around the tightness in his throat. She just looked at him. “Why do I feel like I know you?” he asked.

She sighed and moved to the refrigerator, digging around before pulling out some of the food inside to make breakfast. “We used to go to high school. You dated the popular cheerleader because you were the popular Jock.” She watched his mouth open. “And I’m not talking about the bitch with a Minnie voice. No, I’m talking the real popular cheerleader. The one who got eaten about three days after I got here,” she said, putting the food down.

He sat into a chair that she kept in the kitchen to reach high spots, rubbing at his face with a groan. He ate when she handed him a plate full of hot foot and drank the coffee and juice that she gave him. He also thought, putting his smarts to use.

As he washed dishes, he looked to her. “So, how do we get the fuck out of here?” he asked, eyeing her. “You seem like the smart type.”

She smirked and lead him to the library.


	15. Day 14 Prompt 10 - News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 14: October 14, 2020  
> Prompt 10: He was reading his own news story. 
> 
> He couldn’t believe it. 
> 
> But it wasn’t a news story that he had written. Instead it was a story about how he had died.
> 
> Retaliation for hunting for that perfect news story.
> 
> Warnings: Writer superstitions

His hands shook as he stared at the news article that he had just opened up. The newspaper that he had sent in an application for along with his resume and some of the articles that he had written under his mentor’s careful eyes had sent him the article. He had thought it was a rejection letter, or maybe an acceptance letter. 

But it hadn’t been.

Instead, it was an article about _him!_ It wasn’t to long, maybe a quarter of a page length and probably was buried near the back in the lesser articles. An article about someone forgettable who had died an ignoble death doing something stupid.

He swallowed and started to read it in full. “A man named Arnold Smith, twenty-four, was found dead in his Phoenix apartment in the afternoon of the Fourth of May, dead of apparent homicide.” He stood up and started to pace as he continued to read about how his landlord had checked on him after calls of screaming from some of his neighbors. And a smell of copper from the apartment, the electricity having died in a summer rolling black out.

He went from one side of his apartment to the other as he read and reread the article, taking in all of the facts that it gave him. He had died the afternoon before, but the landlord hadn’t done anything about it until the smell had started to come through the door and filling the hallways. He had called the cops the moment he had entered the apartment, knowing the stench of rotting blood and using it as an excuse to do so.

The article just said that his body was mangled, his head the only part untouched beyond a black eye and the blood that had congealed in his hair and on his face.

Swallowing, he dropped the article down onto his coffee table and sat down heavily on his couch, rubbing his face. In journalistic circles, there were warnings and tales of articles coming to them under the name of certain newspapers or journalistic houses. Superstition, he had thought at the time. But staring at the article that was dated a month from the day told him that it wasn’t.

Looking in the envelope, he found another smaller slip of article that had escaped him. Most likely wrapping around to the back page. On it, it talked about the article that he had been trying to work as a way to have a good start for his new newspaper job. The cops thought his murder may have been connected to the article about missing children.

There had been notes and information found on his computer and on various hidden flashdrives that had suggested that he had hit on something. His personal journal said he was going to the cops, but it looked as if the people got to him first.

Swallowing, he rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed at his face with a groan. “Fuck. This isn’t good,” he moaned, looking at the notebook that he had stared to compile about the missing kids. He was curious about the various kids that went missing in the same way and the way their investigations had been handled.

It looked as if he was going to have to drop it for now though. Especially if the article in front of him was a real thing instead of some idiot trying to haze him.

He wasn’t going to risk his life, no matter how close the story to him was.


	16. Day 15 Prompt 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 15: October 15, 2020  
> Prompt 17: They thought the family was an easy target!
> 
> Just get in, get what they wanted, fuck off.
> 
> They were wrong. So very wrong.
> 
> Warnings: off screen blood, gore and guts

Staring at his hands, the cuffs around his wrists glinting in the low light, he shivered very slightly. He had been looked over by hospital staff before being bundled up and dragged to the police station. He knew that he was in trouble, which wasn’t surprising since he and his team had been doing something illegal.

Or would have done something illegal if they hadn’t picked the wrong fucking family. And now he was the last of the group left.

He swallowed and picked up the cup of water that had been left for him, sipping at the cool liquid and wetting his sore throat. The doctor had warned him about keeping his throat wet but also not talking very loudly due to the bruising around it. The officer who was dealing with his case, had come to him and told him how the interview would be going. They were just waiting for his lawyer friend to come represent him during the entire thing.

He had a feeling that they would have a hard time believing what he was about to tell them.

He had a hard time believing it and he had lived it.

The officer stepped in with his friend, the other man looking sleep ruffled and like he had thrown on the first piece of clothing that didn’t smell. Which he had probably done since it was nearly two in the morning and he had been at work for close to twelve hours the day before.

“Hey.”

“Yo.” His friend put his case down and pulled out his own recorder, making sure it was loaded with a fresh tape and batteries, looking at the interviewer with a raised eyebrow. “You mind?” he asked.

The man shook his head as he put his own set up out, including a microphone that sat in the middle of the table. “Not at all. Just don’t place your own microphone close to ours. There tends to be some static,” he said, sitting down across the table. With the recorders set up and water refreshed, the date, time, and people who were there were stated before he looked at the still shaking man. “Alright, let’s start from the top. What were you doing?”

He took a deep breath and played with the cuff’s on his wrist, glad that they were loose and didn’t have any sharp edges to them. “It was a job. The head, Myers, got called one night. Offered a million to go in and clean a family out while holding the family hostage. That’s a mil each, up to five of us total. So he called me, Mikki, Lee, Kyles and Brandons, told us the job and the house,” he said, shifting.

“And when was that?”

“About two weeks ago. He and Mikki scoped out the house and the family. Looked like a Norman Rockwell house,” he said. “I was doing it just because I needed the money. I know how Myers works. No one would have gotten caught. No one would have gotten hurt. The five vans, and the list of things that we needed were all provided for us. No descript and since the house is on an acre lot with lots of trees, a good joint to snatch and grab, right?” he asked, snorting.

“So you were doing this because you needed the money and nothing else?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I don’t like hurting people but I have nursing training so if they got me the stuff, I could knock the house out in minutes,” he admitted. “That career path kind of got fucked when Mikki stole drugs from where I was interning. Pinned the entire shit on me and got away with a light drug charge. I got kicked from the program and sent to jail for drug distribution charges. So the mil would allow me to set up a new round of school. This time for business.”

“You were going to school for business this time,” his friend summarized. He nodded. “Alright.”

“Anyways, Myers and Mikki scope the place out. Show us all of the information of the land. Where we were gonna drive in, how we were gonna park, told me to plan on how best to fucking knock the family out or get them drugged enough to tie ‘em up,” he continued. “It was going to go down tonight. We drove up around midnight, the information we had on them saying that the teens usually crashed around eleven and the parents soon after that. It was a good set up.”

“What went wrong?” the investigator asked, writing out his notes and thoughts on the story he was being told. 

“Everything.” He looked at the interviewer with wide eyes. “We got to the house and I tossed the knockout gas in, carefully formulated to knock them all out. We waited five minutes, put on our masks and went in but they weren’t in their fucking beds. They had somehow _known_ that we were there and had been waiting for us to enter the home. Which is a lot bigger than what is on file, I’ll tell ya,” he hissed, rubbing at his face, cuffs jingling.

“Take your time,” his friend said, pressing a hand to his arm with a frown. “You okay?” he asked.

He shook his head. “No. I’m not. They fucking hunted us down all over that fucking house. It was a fucking trap and we strolled right into it,” he gasped, shuddering and nearly gagging. “I found Mikki stuck on a damn _meat hook_ like a side of beef. Myers had been pulled apart by what I could only think of as an automated rack. The blood that was splashed around, I think the girls _played_ in the shit as he bled out, screaming as he was pulled apart slowly.” He gagged again and took the hastily grabbed trashcan, losing what little water was in his stomach.

The interviewer stood up and opened a small side door, a half-bath waiting when he stopped gagging as he remembered what he had seen. “How about you take a few minutes and brush your teeth? Get yourself together. I’ll get some ice and more water for your throat. And some of the numbing spray that the ER doc prescribed you.”

He nodded, allowing his friend to take the trashcan and hand it over to get it cleaned out. He shuffled into the bathroom, brushing his teeth with the offered cheap toothbrush and toothpaste, gargling with the little bottle of mouthwash after. Once he had gathered himself together again, he drank some water to clean it out and opened his mouth, allowing the male nurse to spray his throat.

Once he was ready, he kept talking. “I found the phone that had called Myers. And the plans for the group. It was a fucking _game_ to them. It was their personal Purge fantasy come to life,” he said, shivering. “Your people got the papers from me but I’m not sure how good they’ll be since I slipped in blood so much,” he continued.

The interviewer pulled out his phone and sent a message to the people who were processing the evidence that had been taken off of their prisoner. He got a message that one of the techs was already scanning the papers to clear off the blood digitally but it wasn’t looking good for the family who had called in the ‘attack’ if their plans were any indication.

The man sighed. “I’m going to have you put into medical for the night so we can keep a close eye on you. I’m not sure if you’re not safe or not yet but I don’t think that you’re going to get in trouble for breaking and entering,” he finally said. The lawyer and interviewer talked for a few minutes before the interviewer took him to medical and put him under heavy guard for the rest of the night.

The next morning, he was let out, the police crew who had headed out to the house telling him that the family wouldn’t be around again. Apparently they had fucked off the moment that their victim had been found outside of the house, covered in blood and delirious with fear. The bodies of his fellow crewmates, or as much of them as they could find, were still being collected and a final note was sent to his house.

It thanked him for the good time, to enjoy the five million and to live a good life. He turned the letter over, used half a million to go back to college for business, used another half mil for a house that was carefully locked down for his own mental health, and donated the rest wherever he could once taxes were paid off. He found a job that allowed him to stay home for the most part while he went to school, graduated and got a new job that offered him a protected office.

Whenever he got news that a new house had been found with a new group that hadn’t made it out, he shuddered and lit candles for those poor souls that had fallen into the same trap that he had.


	17. Day 17 Prompt 11 - Mummy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 17: October 17, 2020  
> Prompt 11: He didn’t expect to find more than old tombs, mummies and some pots. 
> 
> He found so very much more. 
> 
> Warnings: off screen blood, gore and guts.

Stepping down into the tomb, Leron licked his lips, taking a deep breath through his mask. His partner, Kandy, stepped up next to him with her lantern held above her head, eyes sliding around the room that they had opened the day before. They had allowed time for the room to air out, as per the rules and regulations that they worked with.

The door was currently carefully being documented by one of their forensic archeologists, the woman stating that she would wait until they said if they had a body for her to look at before heading in. And that with their system of a camera on a contraption that could move back and forth on wheels while moving the camera up and down, she could take pictures easily enough.

And send it to the rest of their team back in the United States, where one was taking care of her mother and wasn’t able to make the trip with them.

Lifting his own lantern up, Leron stared at the walls that looked pristine. In some of the best conditions that he had seen in years. “It’s as if the tomb was sealed just a little while ago,” he said absently. Kandy hummed and nodded, walking over to one wall. With specialized gloves on her fingers, she dusted off a bit of the wall, exposing brilliant red color.

“I think it’s a mix of clay-based paints and pigment-based clays,” she said, her voice mildly muffled by her mask. “I won’t know until I’m able to get a sample from the wall if we can find a spot that is flaking. I might have to ask for permission to bring one of the newer scanners in to take the reading straight from the damn wall,” she admitted.

“Do that later. I don’t think we’ll have much luck in finding a bit of flaking wall,” he warned her, moving further along into the tomb. They were in the middle of a rainforest, in a temple that had been near impossible to get to until a small fire had rearranged the forest to a point where they could finally get to it. Before there had been small exhibitions that had come and worked around the outside of it.

Documentations of the outside ruins and items found were all back at the museum, waiting for them and more of the story that wrapped around the outside of the tomb.

“Do you think it really holds a Queen of Darkness?” Kandy asked, using the name that the museum used for certain historical figures. Those Queens and Kings who had been deadly and evil in so many ways, hurting not only their own people but others, who had been sealed up and names forgotten in the passage of time. The story around the tomb they were in now talked about how she had bathed in the blood of her enemies, keeping them alive for years to slowly drain their blood from them every so often.

It was said that when there were meat shortages, she would eat the flesh of those people, who were kept well fed. Her people would not touch such a thing, believing the flesh of humans were for their Gods consumption and only their Gods.

“I don’t know. I think that she was a Queen, no doubt about that. They don’t even haver her name anywhere, just called her the Blooded One. Or at least as far as the translations can figure out,” Leron replied, moving to an open doorway that looked to lead to the main burial chamber.

Stepping into the room, he looked around, turning the lantern up as far as it could go, throwing light over most of the room, including the large stone sarcophagus. Built like it was meant to hold something, it looked as if the top had broken in two, the top half of it laying on the floor, a very obviously broken seal on the top of it.

“Damn. I hope no one stole the body,” he grunted, hearing Kandy follow him and move over to the walls to keep looking over them.

Stepping up to the stone sarcophagus, he lifted his lantern and stared down. Inside was a shroud that would have been wrapped tightly around the bound body, holding into place seals and relics to keep her in her tomb. There were several small relics that he knew were used only on the worst of the worst, making him frown.

“Hey…Kandy? The body is gone but the relics on it are still here,” he called out, hearing a soft choking sound start up along with a scrambling of feet trying to gain purchase on a floor. Spinning around, his eyes widen at the sight of Kandy, held in the firm grip of a woman who looked to be sucking the very blood out of his partner through her fingernails.

Her hand was wrapped around Kandy’s neck, squeezing tightly enough to bury them into her flesh, red sliding down her hand and into her skin, plumping it. Kandy was kicking and trying to get the hold off of her neck even as her own skin started to dry and shrivel, as if she was being mummified.

He couldn’t stop watching in horror, feeling as if his entire body was held in place by some unseen force. When Kandy’s body, now fully dried out, landed on the ground, the woman who had her in her grasp was now fully fleshed out again. She smirked, lips full and skin dark as she turned her black eyes towards him.

“Freedom,” she breathed, her word tinged with an accent that was old, husky and low. “For so long I have waited. Then you pull the door off and crack the seal for me,” she continued. “And you bring me my first meal, to learn the language and to learn the world. I shall now have what I was promised.”

Leron swallowed as he felt his vision blacking out, the low husky chuckle following after him as he fell to the ground, his last thought for that moment wondering what he had unleased upon the world.


	18. Day 18 Prompt 5 - Stalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 18: October 18, 2020  
> Prompt 5: He watched her.
> 
> He knew she knew and wanted him to do it. 
> 
> He watched her and wondered. 
> 
> Warnings: stalker  
> Stalking  
> Voyeurism  
> Euphemisms for killing

Licking his lips as he twitched his curtains slightly open, just enough to see out of, he focused on the house next to his. It was a simple house, much like every other house on the block, with a light green paint job and white trim with carefully cared for bushes that lined the property along a short fence. It didn’t look like something amazing should be behind the façade, but he knew.

Oh, he _knew_.

He watched _her_ every day. She smiled and hummed and played music while cleaning. She liked to have her curtains open all the time, uncaring if she was dressed or not when she walked in front of them. That was how his days had started out.

When they had gone into lockdown, he had moved his entire job into his home, the same home that his parents had left him when they had disappeared one day. He made good money and had the extra room to do his job, so he wasn’t hurting. Then _she_ had moved in next door, painting the house, and updating things in the span of a week.

After that week though, he had noticed somethings about her. Including her need to have all the curtains open and walking through the house without a bit of clothing on. So he watched.

And he watched. Observing every day for a few hours total, taking breaks, and waiting for her to show her true colors. Waiting for her to show why she was there.

He _needed_ to know. _Needed_ to figure out her secrets. No one did the things that she did. Not a single person.

He shifted on his feet and watched as she smiled prettily at a guy who had come over, making him swallow at the thought of her being with the man. He was handsome, in his own way, with broad shoulders and classical looks, but he didn’t seem the type to treat women right outside of the bedroom.

Stepping back from the curtained window, he wandered back to his office and sat down, opening his heavily protected journal. He typed out his new observations in the journal before saving and protecting it once more, closing the file out.

He sighed and looked to the window that was open, letting in the natural light and facing her bedroom window before he turned back to his computer screens. His work was quickly pulled up and he started to work once more, promising himself that soon he would have her secrets.

She wouldn’t be the first that he had gotten secrets from. He had gotten his parents secrets from them one day. He had gotten his sister’s secrets to. No one knew that he had gotten them all, but he had.

He just had to wait for the right moment to get her secrets.


	19. Day 19 Prompt 30 - Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 19: October 19, 2020  
> Prompt 30: They loved the cabin. It was personal, alone, beautiful and away from everything. 
> 
> They weren’t expecting the nightmares. 
> 
> Each night they saw the history watching what had happened, being warned what would happen to them if they stayed. 
> 
> Warnings: off screen blood, gore and guts

Staring down at her coffee cup in her hands, Kylie jumped when her husband stumbled into the kitchen with a muttered curse, dark bags under his eyes matching her own. “Long night?” she asked.

Lee grunted, nodding as he poured some of the freshly made coffee into his own cup. “I thought that this was supposed to be a calming place?” he asked.

Kylie snorted and drained half of her cup of coffee. “It is. Usually,” she said, before looking at her husband. “Remember aunties warning?” she asked. He looked at her with tired eyes. “About how sometimes the past wants to show you something here?”

“Yeah. Something about unsolved murders and the such?” he asked. She nodded. “Right. She came up here for her third anniversary with her husband, right?” Lee shifted on his feet, trying to remember what they had been told as he sipped his coffee. “She figured out that one murder that had just happened a few weeks before, yeah? The girl who got dumped on the property.”

“Yep,” Kylie replied. “I’m thinking I’m dreaming of it myself. Watching the couple come up, renting from the family. The woman going nuts. I’m thinking there’s going to be a last dream actually,” she admitted, yawning.

Lee stared at her for several long moments before sighing and placing his cup down. “The woman has red hair, right? Bright red, an unnatural red shade. With blond eyebrows and liking red lipstick?” he asked. “A lot like your Aunt Kippy?”

Kylie stared at him over the rim of her cup with wide eyes before she put the cup down and stared at him, frowning. “The guy is six-six easily, lean, strong, looks like a bicyler?” she asked, Lee nodding his head. “Fuck. Yeah, the land is doing it’s thing again.” She groaned as she rubbed at her face. “I’m thinking that it’s going to be one last dream tonight since we’re staying tonight and tomorrow. The stories always say that the dreams only last from the second night to the night before your last.”

Lee grunted. “What would happen if we took a nap? Would we get some sleep?” he asked, Kylie shaking her head. “I’ll make some more coffee and bust out the energy drinks,” he promised, moving to go into the garage where they had stashed most of their things.

He mused that it was a good idea that they had brought along a lot of coffee and energy drinks seeing as they were both working on their next book. The entire trip was supposed to be about writing their last twenty thousand words and maybe starting the next book while they were at it. They had only gotten ten thousand in the last four days and would hopefully get more before heading home.

Sighing, he hefted the pack of energy drinks up and hauled them into the cabin.

That night, they did have the last of the dream. They dreamt of how, in her delusions, she hurt her boyfriend and dragged him out of the house. They dreamt of how when he woke up, he couldn’t remember who he was beyond his name and the information he found in his backpack. How he made it to the town and was sent home.

They watched as she cleaned up the cabin and lied through her teeth to the couple who owned the house, the grandparents of Kylie. How she met their youngest son and started a relationship, becoming Auntie Kippy and never having sleep.

Kylie stared at her husband, twitched, got up, showered and dressed for the day, and when she sat at her computer, created a file for them to write out the information that they had dreamt of. Once it was done, they both felt better, called her parents to tell them that they were staying for another two days, and went to work on their stories.

When they got home, they learned that Kippy had been taken in for psychological evaluation, her husband happily telling them all about how she had blackmailed him into the marriage for the last twenty years. And how he had a boyfriend that he was moving in with.

Kylie and Lee just shared a look and wrote a series of books about the land and all of the mysteries that surrounded it.


	20. Day 20 Prompt 21 - Doll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walk a Path with Me  
> Day 20: October 20, 2020  
> Prompt 21: He hated the doll.
> 
> He didn’t know that the doll loved him and had throughout all of their lives
> 
> Warnings: obsessive love, stalking, haunted doll

He hated the doll. He had told his mother when he had been a child and his father had brought it back for her. He had taken one look at it, felt creeped out, said that he hated it, and refused to be in any room with it in.

His mother had finally placed the door into her personal study, where he didn’t go into anyways, and left it there. But he swore that he saw her all over the place.

She kept popping up in the oddest of places, finding him whenever she could.

He started to _loath_ her and told his father that one day. His father had said that they would make sure that the doll couldn’t be moved by his cousins. He didn’t tell the man that she would move with or without them in the house, instead eyeing her from the doorway to his mother’s study.

She was locked in a case and yet still found ways of getting around the house. His mother often wondered how she got out of the case before putting her back. When his father got sick, he and his mother moved into a smaller home close to the hospice that he was being cared at. Whenever he was in classes or doing homework, he would go with her to the hospice and spend whatever time they could with him between treatments.

The doll along with several other things were packed up and left in storage at his grandparent’s home.

When his father finally passed, losing the battle three years later, just after he had graduated high school, they moved into another house, this one closer to his aunts and uncles and grandparents. The stuff stored stay there for another two years while they slowly went through everything that they had, downsizing.

When he was twenty-one, the doll came back to his life after nearly six years of being out of his life. He stared at the door as he held it, having unpacked it from a box full of books that had been his fathers and looked to his mom, holding it up by the hand. “Wasn’t she packed in with the rest of your collector stuff?” he asked, eyeing the doll.

He felt gross just touching her.

Like she was staring at him with a need to make him her own. As if he was her entire world. He had dealt with one stalker when he had been young, about a year before the doll had come into his life. But she had disappeared off the face of the Earth and he had forgotten about her. But holding that doll made him feel like he had when she had been stalking him.

His mother frowned and took the doll, flipping her around and really looking at her with critical eyes. “Why did I never see how creepy she looks?” she mused, undoing the back of the pretty, frill covered dress to check the creator stamp on her back. “Geonava…” she mused. “Wasn’t that the last name of that stalker you had?” she asked.

He shuddered. “Yeah. I don’t want that doll in this house, if we can help it. Get rid of it or something,” he said, pushing up to stand and carrying the box of books over to the basement door. “I’m going to take dad’s books down to my apartment,” he said.

She nodded and hummed, putting the doll into the donation box and stood up, heading to her own computer to see whatever happened to that woman who had stalked her son when he was a teen.

Two hours later, the doll was tied up with rope, shoved into a duffle bag with rosary wrapped around it, and she was driving to a special priest. She was pissed that the bitch had obsessed so much over her teenaged son that she had killed herself, doing a ritual to get the doll into her possession to creep on her kid.

She wanted answers about why she thought she should.


End file.
